Smack!
by WickedFan97
Summary: Ep: "Furt." AU. What if Artie -to the disappointment of Brittany- didn't step in to defend Kurt from Karofsky? What if Brittany had to step in with Mike Chang to tell Karofsky to stop? This leads to an injured Brittany, and a furious Santana. S/B
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers: Up to "Furt." Season 2.

Pairing(s): Santana/Brittany, hints of Artie/Brittany. Mike/Brittany friendship.

Sypnosis:I couldn't help but notice the lack of support when it came to defending Kurt against Karofsky. Only Mike, Artie, and Sam actively stepped in. What if to the disappointment of Brittany, Artie didn't step in - along with Finn - when it came to defending Kurt? What if Brittany had stepped in with Mike Chang and confronted Karofsky? This leads to a violent reaction, a slightly injured Brittany, and a completely furious Santana Lopez.

Warning: Slightly dark. Deals with gay-themed bullying.

PS: This is dedicated to _noothernames._ Thanks for all your wonderful reviews. I'm gonna try a Brittana for you now.

This is only an intended two-shot. This is part one: the fight. But maybe if a lot of people like it, I might continue it and make it longer. ;)

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Brittany couldn't help but feel slightly put off.

She couldn't help but feel slightly hurt at her boyfriend's refusal to at least speak up on Kurt's behalf.

The blonde knew she wasn't labeled as the smartest person on the planet - this coming from just about everyone's mouth - but she wasn't _stupid._ The bullying on Kurt had reached sky high, and even Mr. Schue was noticing the constant commotion around the boy. He was now a walking slush target; he often got slammed into the lockers with a snarky comment as well. Which was Karofsky just about every time.

She wasn't stupid.

Something must have gone down between the two of them.

The blonde was a lot more observant than people gave her credit for. She might not know the square roots to certain numbers or couldn't get past Chemistry like it was nothing, but she was good at knowing what a person really felt. She was good at knowing the real actions and reactions. She would see how Kurt would look at Karofsky like he was a disgusting creature; slight betrayal stinging his eyes more often than not. And she noticed how Karofsky's eyes would narrow instantly when he saw the feminine boy in the hallways; his eyes would sometimes - very briefly, mind you- flicker down to Kurt's lips more often than not. But that's not really what disturbed her the most. It was the lack of reaction for the entire spectacle. Sure, New Directions would talk about how bad this recent development was, but they certainly weren't doing anything about it.

Suprisingly, it was Rachel that said something needed to be done.

And even more suprisingly, Finn had done absolutely nothing for his step-brother.

This made Brittany's stomach boil in anger and a frown overcome her normally sunny features.

To her relief, Mike Chang immediately agreed to finally have words with the boy; she was sure it had _nothing_ to do with the way Tina batted her eyelashes at him.

So she immediately tried the same with Artie.

_"It's not right," frowned Brittany, "It's not right what Karofsky is doing to Kurt."_

_Artie's eyes shifted guiltily to the floor. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he abruptedly closed it as he placed his hands on the wheels of his wheelchair; he looked ready to bolt. This made Brittany glare angrily at her 'boyfriend.' She couldn't believe that the team spoke so strongly of defending each other, yet when it was time to step up to the plate nobody could._

_Artie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I-I don't like it either, Brit -"_

_"Then why won't you or anyone else do something about it?" Brittany crossed her arms._

_"It's just not that simple, Brittany," he sighed, finally looking up at her. "If we say something to Karofsky then him and his buddies will target all of us."_

_The blonde's jaw clenched in uncharacteristic anger. She was honestly fuming at her boyfriend. Sure, she would be worried about Artie getting hurt if Karofsky decided to do something, but then again there would be several other guys there if the boys of New Directions could get their acts together. Puck was understandable, he didn't want to risk Juvie again. And Sam hadn't shot down the idea of confronting Karofsky like Finn and Artie had. But this was Finn's step-brother, someone he had claimed to grow semi-close to. And Artie should know better than anybody what it's like to be picked on for something you can't control._

_So huffing angrily with a pout on her features, the blonde walked away from Artie._

_She walked down the busy hallways of McKinley High; she readily ignored his shouts of her name._

And as much as she loved Santana, the girl was all too smug with Artie's reaction.

The blonde had taken to sitting away from Artie as a form of punishment.

And she knew her best friend was all too happy with this recent development. And as much as Brittany didn't want to feel helpless and hurt again, she couldn't help but miss her darker-skinned counterpart. She missed _her _Santana. She missed her snarks at just about everyone in general, despite the fact that they were mean and cruel; her eyes would soften when Brittany would pinch her arm and reprimand her. And she missed the all too protective arm placed around her waist and the all too protective glare that Santana would sport whenever someone said something mean towards her.

But then she remembered why she went with Artie in the first place.

_The blonde was still panting, resting her face against Santana's in the afterglow. "I-I love you, San."_

_"Don't," the brunette whispered, clearing her throat._

_Brittany could only watch with sad eyes as Santana quickly dressed herself and fled as if she was on fire._

And she knew that if she asked Santana to confront Dave Karofsky for her, that she would do it in a heartbeat.

But that was something Brittany didn't want.

She wanted to learn to do things on her own.

Because it was obvious that Santana would run away whenever Brittany expressed her true feelings for her, so she wouldn't always be around to protect the blonde. And it was more than obvious that her boyfriend wouldn't confront anyone about their bad behavior on her behalf. And even if he somehow did, he couldn't really do anything or defend himself against the harsh nature of the jocks at McKinley High.

So Brittany had told Mike Chang that she would go with him to talk to Karofsky.

Mike had immediately given her a head shake.

But after five minutes of pleading and pouting on Brittany's part, he had finally given in. No one ever could resist her pouts.

He had finally explained his reaction though.

_"Karofsky's not known to be a pleasant guy, Brit," muttered Mike, his brow furrowing._

_"I know, Mike. But I still want to help because Kurt's my friend too," pouted the blonde._

_He sighed. "Fine."_

_She beamed at him and tackled him in a hug._

_He hugged her back softly, before grabbing her by the arms and pushing her back to look at her face. His features were set mildly in concern, and this caused her to frown in confusion. She began to ask her friend what was wrong, but he just shook his head and put his hands in his back pockets. She persisted for quite awhile until he finally threw his hands up._

_"I just don't want you getting hurt, Brittany," sighed the boy. "Because this might lead to a fight."_

_"You'll protect me," grinned Brittany, determined to show nothing but confidence in her friend._

_He looked uncertain, but she admired him for attempting to look at her with a reassuring bravery._

_"So -," began Mike, clearing his throat, "does Santana know you're planning to help with this?"_

_She couldn't help but grow slightly defensive at that line of questioning. Because ever since the little fiasco with Artie and Santana, the team hadn't gone around and mentioned the girl in front of Brittany. And truthfully, she was still hurt by her best friend's rejection and the way she still had sex with Puck as if it were nothing, but that didn't mean they had to treat her like a child constantly. Because they always asked of Santana's whereabouts or if the girl had been there when Brittany had gotten into another fight with Artie. She always bit back her annoyance and just shook her head at her team._

_"No, she doesn't know," frowned Brittany, her annoyance clear. "And I don't see the big deal of her having to know either. I'm not a little girl, Mike."_

_His lips quirked up affectionately. "I know your not, Brit."_

So that's why she was currently annoyed at her boyfriend.

And that was currently why she was now walking down the hallway with Mike Chang by her side.

He looked at her and gave her a concerned look. She looked back at him and gave a little grin of reassurance; he grinned toothily in response and locked elbows with his friend. They had the appearance of two cheerful teenagers walking down the hall, but she knew that it was a lot more than that. She felt her stomach jump in nervousness and her heart start to hammer in her chest.

She knew she could possibly get hurt in this little meeting. Because while Mike was a decent sized guy and had an admirable set of lean muscles, she knew that Karofsky was still a huge guy and had seen the legendary fights the boy had been in. Hell, the boy nearly rivaled Finn in height. But instead of the slight lankiness that Finn possessed, Dave Karofsky made up for that in body mass that probably had a lot to do with all the weight lifting he did. And she had heard the rumors of him putting a senior football player in the hospital for two weeks after the boy had jokingly called him a Queer.

So she would be lying if she said she wasn't worried about this little 'intervention' they were doing.

But they were doing this for Kurt.

For their _teammate._

She felt Mike tense up next to her when he spotted Karofsky leaning lazily against his locker, obviously making no attempts to rush; the tardy bell was about to ring.

She released a breath and tightened her arm around his in support.

_Team._

They stopped in front of Karofsky, who was now looking at them with a scrutinizing look. He raised his eyebrow almost mockingly.

"Chang," nodded Karofsky curtly, before looking at Brittany.

She didn't attempt to look happy like she normally would. Instead, she scowled at the boy and released her arm from Mike's; it made her angry because it seemed like he just _knew _why they were there, and he seemed to be quite amused by it. He just smirked at her and looked at her mockingly, despite the equal glare on Mike's face. She could feel that anxious feeling bubble up again, but she ignored it.

"Stop playing games, Karofsky," glared Brittany. "You know why we're here. And you need to stop messing with Kurt because -"

He slammed his locker harshly, making Brittany jump.

"Because why?" He was standing up to his full height now, looking intimidatingly down at the two.

"Because it's not right that you're bullying someone based on their sexual orientation," commented Brittany, loosing her fear and forcing her voice to sound firm.

He sneered at her mockingly, and he took a step forward towards the two. She could only vaguely realize that Mike was putting her behind him protectively; her fear was beginning to grow and manifest itself in her entire body, and it was taking all she had to even concentrate and talk to the boy. She was not so sure she liked being on her own now.

"I'm suprised you even know what that means, _retard."_

She hastily put her hands on Mike's shoulders; his fist were clenched and his body had started forward angrily. Karofsky had a mad gleam in his eye, a gleam that just dared him to dart forward and take that hit. But the blonde was going to try with all of her power to stop that from happening. She did not want a fight to break out in an empty hallway with their team with the obvious disadvantage. And despite the fact that her throat closed up at the very familiar insult - and her eyes welled with tears - she was not going to let it get the best of her. Because she was _not _a weak girl who didn't know what she was talking about.

"Maybe that's why Hummel's a fag," spat Dave. "Do you have all the girls in your club fight for you guys, Chang?"

Mike's face was contorted in rage, and Brittany had to give it up to him for not attacking Karofsky right there. She opened her mouth to say something.

"Please, you stupid dyke," sneered Dave, his face morphing into one of daring. "Like you and Lopez are any better."

Brittany had to forcefully pull Mike away when he leapt forward. Karofsky just smirked and held out his arms in an open invitation. The blonde began to pant as she held on to a struggling Mike Chang's shirt; he was a lot stronger than his slim body appeared to be. She began pleading with him softly, begging him not to do anything. He finally relented, much to the disappointment of Karofsky; it was flashing on his face like neon sign.

"Just because you're in denial about being gay doesn't mean you have to take it out on people who are!" Her shout echoed off the hallway walls.

That apparently had been the _wrong _thing to say.

Dave Karofsky's face morphed into something that almost wasn't human. His face went a shade of red that seemed almost impossible; his eyes became so fierce and full of hatred that she felt pure fear travel down the length of her spine. She felt Mike push her out of the way as Dave began walking towards them with his fists clenched; he was panting and hissing like he just ran a marathon.

Brittany didn't know who thew the first punch.

But they were standing and fists were flying so fast that she couldn't even see what was going on.

They were pushing and twisting viciously like two snakes in a heated battle.

It wasn't like the movies where they threw fancy punches and Kung-Fu kicks, this was more wild; realistic fighting of two boys whose bodies were crashing together viciously and whose fists were clumsily fighting and missing. She felt a cry escape her throat when Karofsky suddenly slammed into Mike so hard that it sent him careening into the lockers behind him. She felt the beginning of tears in her eyes when Mike's face transformed into one of pain as he tried to hastily regain his footing, one of his arms pushing back against the lockers.

The scuffle was so loud she was suprised that no one had come into the hall to investigate.

Then again, they were practically on the abandoned side of the school where only three classes resided.

Hope began to rise in her chest when Mike charged forward at the break-neck speed he was known for and crashed so hard into Karofsky's midsection that they crashed into the opposite row of lockers.

Unfortunately, that's when things got even worse.

Karofsky had regained both of their footing and shoved Mike viciously away from him.

And the blonde had no time to react as Mike's body collided viciously with hers.

The force hit her so hard that she instantly went careening towards the ground - her eyes catching the ceiling briefly - until she felt the back of her head hit the ground. She heard a loud crack but that couldn't have possibly been her head. She just felt a ringing in her ears, and there was a flashing of colors underneath her closed eyelids. She struggled for breath and she thought she heard someone say her name loudly. She wasn't quite sure, because she turned on one of her cheeks against the cold ground and heaved for breath; she was trying to regain her bearings.

She thought she felt the ground beneath her vibrating; she heard a shout of rage and the sounds of the scuffle beginning once more.

She pushed her palm down on the ground and heaved in a deep breath as she tried to push herself up to at least sit up properly.

Her arms felt weak and her vision was blurry, but she kept struggling anyways.

She felt her chest constrict when she finally was able to fully sit up; her vision cleared slightly and she could see Mike on the ground with Karofsky throwing punches on him.

_No!_

With a cry of pain she forced herself up and on her wobbly legs.

With her vision cleared she could see that down at the end of the hallway there were two teachers running towards them. She could faintly see a few heads poking out of the classrooms to witness what was going on. Karofsky just continued throwing punches at Mike's face, until Mike's leg miraculously came up and kicked him viciously in the midsection; Karofsky stumbled back with a hiss.

Mike hastily made his way to his feet, and to Brittany's horror his nose was bleeding and one of his eye's was bruised nastily.

The teachers were almost there, but the two boys still looked ready for some more. They looked like bulls who had just seen a red flag waved in front of them.

In order to avoid even more trouble that they were going to get into, she tried to make her way in-between the two boys.

But she concluded that wasn't the wisest place to be, seeing as Karofsky had his fist raised and it was flying at her.

She wasn't sure what happened next. She felt black enter her vision for the briefest second and it felt like she was out of control of her own body. She could definitely feel something solid collide with her back and the sound rang loudly in her ears. She was aware that she was sliding down; she felt her butt hit what seemed to be the ground. She didn't know; her vision was splotchy and she couldn't make out the loud voices that rang out. She could definitely feel half of her face light up in pain. It felt as if if her cheek were inflamed or something. She tried to blink groggily out of her dazed and nearly unconscious state, but her clouded vision wasn't getting any better. And the voices just got louder.

She was able to feel a hand on her arm though, but she couldn't exactly hear what they were saying to her.

She could feel herself being pulled up into someone's arms, and she felt an arm sweep down underneath her legs and completely pick her up.

She felt her head wobble and she put her head on the nearest solid thing; the person's chest. She could feel the person in question taking deep and frantic breaths. She wanted to tell them she was fine.

She blinked her blurry eyes and could vaguely recognize Mr. Schue's face peering down at her anxiously.

She turned her blurry vision to see - what looked like - Coach Beiste, who had her hand around Karofsky's neck with him pressed against the lockers; she was shouting furiously.

She could make out Mike, who was leaning heavily against the lockers and Emma Pillsbury seemed to be checking on him. It was then she realized the large crowd of students had gathered, and they were all pushing forward anxiously and tried to see what was going on; they were being held back by Principle Figgins. She could hear the faint sound of a bullhorn going off, and all the students seemed to silence. Brittany couldn't think of a worst time for Coach Sylvester to show up and see what exactly happened. She couldn't help but whimper a little at the thought of being kicked off the Cheerios or expelled. She didn't feel that much reassured even when Mr. Schue whispered that it would be okay and pulled her even closer. She could see the blazing lime green of Sue's track suit at she fought her way through the crowd.

She released a breath when Sue suddenly fought her way through; but all the breath left her lungs when she noticed the red, white, and black uniformed girls that had followed behind her.

She watched the woman take menacing steps forward as she went over to him.

She couldn't make out what she was saying to the boy, but it was enough to make the boy snarl and try and verbally retaliate.

Sue's head turned around and she seemed to smirk even wider when she noticed Mike leaning heavily against the lockers.

Brittany suddenly felt as if her condition was suddenly a lot worse than she originally thought, because as soon as Sue caught sight of the blonde that William Schuester was holding up steadily, her face morphed into one of blatant disbelief and then one of outright horror. Seeing Coach Sylvester speechless was definitely going to have to go into Brittany's list of impersonations.

The woman suddenly looked absolutely infuriated. She turned around with the speed of a cheetah and raced over to wear Karofsky was.

"How _dare _you even touch one of my Cheerios with your disgusting and obviously in denial monkey hands!"

"You go ahead and smirk at me Karofsky, I have Gloria Allread on speed dial and she _will _be hearing about your assault on my best Cheerio!"

"If this ruins Nationals for us you better pray you get a daddy in prison because I will personally break in and- "

"ENOUGH, Sylvester!" The shout came from Principal Figgins. He was slowly dispersing the groaning crowd, and Emma had Mike by the arm as she walked with him over to where Mr. Schue was still holding the blonde. Brittany held out her hand and Mike anxiously went forward and grabbed it, peering into her face anxiously. He looked so bruised; she suspected the pain on his face had little to do with his and more to do with her getting hurt. She tried to give him a smile, but whimpered in pain when she felt her inflamed cheek move. He looked frantic then, looking up quickly at the two teachers.

"She's looking pretty bad, Mr. Schue" swallowed Mike.

Mr. Schue nodded. "We need to get her to the nurse's office."

But for some reason, she felt panic rise in her chest. The sudden need for Santana was obviously overwhelming her. She wanted to feel her best friend beside her and clutching her hand and whispering words in Spanish because even though she couldn't understand sometimes, just knowing that it was Santana and that it was her way of reassuring and comforting the blonde it made her feel much more calm.

She tugged Mike's hand.

He looked down at her.

She tried to say Santana's name, but nothing was escaping her dry throat.

But he just seemed to know.

"I'll go get Santana," whispered Mike, leaning down and kissing her cheek affectionately. She just nodded with tears in her eyes.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Mr. Schue's chest, waiting for them to take her to the nurse.

She really needed Santana.

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Yesh? Si or no?


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. Thank you all for the positive feedback. I honestly hadn't expected that much.

Part two of two.

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She always considered herself a patient person.

It was a quality that she had always been known for.

Like when others - namely Santana - would completely lose their shit with people over things such as as breathing, she had always been there to make up for that lack of patience on their part. So it was safe to say that this week was completely horrible. Because people knew that if someone like her lost their patience, then it had to have been pretty bad.

And this week had been completely terrible.

Besides her now ex- boyfriend - who she was still considerably irked with - constantly doting on her like she was the most fragile thing in the entire world, Santana had gone completely apeshit when she had found out and had gotten into a fight with Azimio when he commented that maybe she had deserved a good pounding from Karofsky. And not just a little yelling match where idle and empty threats were thrown, but an actual fight. Luckily, there were teachers around to stop it before it had officially started. But still, she did not need Santana leaping up on Azimio and attempting to pound his face in when she was already in a lot of trouble to begin with.

But that hadn't been the beginning of her irritation.

It had started out in the nurse's office right after the terrible fight had occured. Because she did not need Santana and her boyfriend battling it out over her safety.

_Brittany sniffled as the nurse carefully examined the back of her head._

_"He got you good," muttered the nurse as she carefully pressed down on the knot; Brittany whimpered in pain._

_Mr. Schue, Mike, and Coach Sylvester had been reluctant to leave her alone with the nurse, but the woman had finally shooed them out with a look of impatience. She had examined Brittany's swelling cheek with a hard frown on her face, muttering things about a lack of respect towards women. The blonde tuned out, because she was still faintly dizzy from the altercation earlier._

_But the door suddenly banged open and the nurse leapt back frantically._

_Brittany felt her heart swell when she saw a livid Santana Lopez in the doorframe. _

_Her best friend took hesitant steps forward, looking at Brittany with almost a crazed look in her eyes. The blonde had never seen anything like it before. Santana's mocha eyes were searching her entire face frantically; her fists were clenching and her face seemed to contort with pain when she noticed her inflamed cheek and the padding on the back of her head. She was breathing like she had just ran from wherever she was from to get to her, and the blonde instantly felt something warm blossom in her chest._

_"Well I've never," the nurse huffed. "I'm sorry young lady, but you can't be in here."_

_Santana glowered threateningly as she stepped in front of Brittany. "I would like to see you try and stop me."_

_The nurse just gaped as Santana turned her attentions back on the blonde._

_She stepped closer and moved to the side of Brittany. She never took her eyes of the blonde as she sat next to her, reaching out her hand and cupping the girl's injured cheek softly. The blonde closed her eyes and nuzzled forward into the hand, relishing in the moment; the nurse behind them cleared her throat awkwardly._

_They both ignored her._

_The nurse let out a huff and just continued to gently cover up the back of Brittany's head in a bandage; the blonde gasped when she hit that sore spot._

_"Watch what you're doing," snapped Santana, narrowing her eyes in anger at the woman. The woman in question just huffed and finished silently. She walked out of the office with a frown._

_"San -," began Brittany, but quieted when the brunette scooted closer._

_Santana just shook her head and moved closer, never once taking her eyes off of Brittany's. The blonde felt that familiar heat rush through her when the brunette just gazed at her with that intensity of a person in love; regardless if the brunette was too ashamed or scared to admit it. But Brittany ignored that for now, and she ignored the slight guilt in her stomach when she did nothing to stop Santana from leaning forward with her head tilted; her intentions obvious. Brittany's eyes fluttered, and she released a breath as she moved forward to meet her halfway; like she always had._

_But unfortunately - and probably for the best - they had been interrupted._

_Brittany turned her face away quickly and she could already feel Santana's glower as she noticed a concerned Artie in the doorframe._

_She attempted her best at a smile as he wheeled towards her; Santana had subtly started moving away from the blonde._

_Artie had pulled his wheelchair up so that he was right in front of her. He reached out his arms for a hug but she just glanced away quickly towards the wall; she could hear Santana's scoff and could imagine her boyfriend's hurt look. But she couldn't bring herself to fully feel guilty about her lack of affection; he hadn't deserved her affection for denying them help and he sure as hell didn't deserve it now._

_"I-I'm so sorry Brittany," murmured Artie, his voice filled with contrite, "I rushed down here as soon as I heard -"_

_"Yeah, you must have run down here real fast, wheels," snorted Santana. _

_Brittany whipped her head back around. "San, please don't -"_

_"No!" The brunette looked furious. "No, Brit! He should have been there to protect you!"_

_Brittany's mouth opened and closed, trying to find a retort to at least defend her boyfriend, but she found that she honestly couldn't. She glanced in front of her to see Artie glaring furiously at her best friend, gripping the wheels on his wheelchair until his knuckles turned white; his face was flushed with anger and there was a hint of pain in his eyes._

_"I didn't know what she was planning to do," growled Artie._

_"That is such bullshit," spat Santana, glaring at Artie with such contempt in her eyes that it truly startled the blonde._

_In fact, her best friend was now on her feet and she was in front of the boy. Brittany instantly sat up straight in alarm when Santana gripped the sides of Artie's armrests, gripping them tightly and moving herself so that she was face to face with the boy. Her cheeks were flushed in pure anger and her eyes were narrowed into slits. But hearing Brittany's whimper instantly made her head snap towards the blonde. Her eyes seemed to soften slightly when the blonde looked at her with a slightly pleading expression. Brittany sagged in relief when the brunette just huffed out a breath and turned back to Artie with a sneer._

_"She wouldn't have had to do it if you had been a proper boyfriend in the first place."_

_Artie's mouth opened in retort. "There was nothing I could have -"_

_"Don't even say what I think you're gonna say," hissed the brunette, livid now. "Because they just accomplished what you and Frankenteen failed to do."_

_"You're acting like I'm the one that had hit her," growled Artie, his face growing more pained; Brittany felt the tiniest bit of sympathy when noticed genuine self-loathing flash across his face briefly. But also given the fact that he continuously denied that him and Finn could have accomplished anything made her lose that sympathy in an instant. She couldn't help but lose a little respect for the boy she normally had so much for. Because if she respected anyone, it was Artie. Or at least it had been._

_"You might as well have been the one," sneered Santana._

_Artie reered back as if physically struck. "I-I would never hit Brittany!"_

_"I know you wouldn't," shrugged the Latina. "But you sure don't mind putting her in that position."_

_It felt as if all the air in the room had been sucked out in one breath; all that was lingering was self-loathing and painful accusations. Santana just glimpsed down at her nails, examining them with utter boredom; it was the nonchalance that she was quite known for, particularly after hurtfully insulting somebody. And Artie just looked completely devestated at the harsh words directed at him. He looked as if the last remaining strings holding on to his inner loathing had completely been cut and thrown back at him with mocking laughter. Brittany felt tears sting her eyes and her heart constrict painfully in her chest._

_Santana walked towards the doorway with a sneer on her face; her pony tail was swishing and her hips were swaying mockingly back and forth. _

_Artie's voice was pained and tinged slightly with bitterness. "You would know all about that wouldn't you, Santana?"_

_Santana froze in the doorframe for the briefest moment, her fists clenched._

_"Emotionally, I mean," he finished._

_Brittany could only wince as Santana's fists smashed hard against the doorframe, her shoulders shaking in anger. The blonde could only watch as she straightened after a moment, holding her head up high as she walked out of the door as if nothing had occured there moments before. Brittany looked toward Artie, who was staring at the now empty doorframe with a harsh frown still marring his boyish features. The blonde could feel her stomach drop to the floor; it felt as if it were shriveling up into a painful ball of ashamed love and a silent reverence of adoration that didn't belong there._

And that had only been the beginning of the week...

The next day had consisted of Artie wheeling after her - guarding her, apparently - to every class that she had that day. And the stares of everyone at her face hadn't helped much, either.

And since her best friend deemed her boyfriend incapable of protecting her, she had followed the two around and waited until Brittany was safely in each class.

And it was so much _fun _when the two of them began bickering like two children fighting over the last cookie. It was apparent that Santana never would forgive Artie for his parting comment towards her before she left the nurse's office; it was apparent that Artie would never forgive Santana for just being Santana, period. It was beginning to thin even Brittany's patience.

And if it weren't for Mike and Sam - of all the people, suprisingly - then she would have just taken the week off to recover like her doctor said she _should _do.

Because when Figgins was given the description of what went down from Mike, who had Mr. Schuester and Sue Sylvester to back him up, he suprisingly wasn't suspended. And Karofsky just sat there and gave the boy a glare and spouted off highly offensive words about the boy's lineage, which really wasn't a proper line of defense; it just further proved to Figgins that he was guilty in the matter. And after that, they had called up Karofsky's parents and after further discussing what the boy had been doing to Kurt and what happened that current day, he had been expelled.

It still wasn't enough to make Brittany feel better, though.

But like she had said before, Mike and Sam had cheered her up.

_"You should have seen Brittany, dude, going all Jet Li on Karofsky's ass," grinned Mike, impishly._

_Brittany felt her lips quirk in a smile; that had been the furthest from the truth, but she appreciated it all the same. Sam seemed to catch on._

_"Yeah," laughed the blonde boy. "You told me about that spinning kick she did to Karofsky's nads."_

_Brittany couldn't help it, and she burst into a fit of giggles as she leaned heavily on the two boys; they were walking with her to the choir room. They both wrapped their arms around her shoulders as they walked down the hallway, both of them glaring at anyone who dared to look at the blonde in the wrong way. It was comforting; they weren't hovering but they were still looking out for her and cheering her up._

_"Yeah, not to mention the Matrix-like evasion of one of his Sally punches," sniggered Mike._

_Brittany and Sam howled with laughter._

It was pretty safe to say that they had been the highlight of her week.

However, not even they could have cheered her up after her and Artie had officially decided to end things; they had tried to ignore the awkwardness that had stabilized there, but something had to give.

_"I guess we just couldn't ignore it, huh?" The question sounded rhetorical._

_They were in an abandoned hallway that had offically emptied out after the tardy bell had rang. But the two of them couldn't bring themselves to really care. All they could really even think about was the inevitable confrontation and the inevitable ending of their short-term relationship. Brittany would have been lying if she said it hadn't hurt; she would be lying if she had said that she never really had feelings for they boy. Because despite the love that she had for Santana, she honestly had developed feelings for the boy; even if they were nowhere near the level of feelings for Santana. So she had swallowed the lump in her throat and faced the boy with purpose; she made her intentions clear when she had asked to speak to him alone._

_"No, we couldn't," whispered Brittany._

_Artie nodded his head. "I-it hurts, but I really don't think we were really meant for each other anyway. I-I mean with my feelings for Tina and yours for -"_

_"Yeah," interrupted Brittany. "I know what you mean."_

And even though they couldn't quite cheer her up like they had planned, Mike and Sam were still there for Brittany. It was something that she really appreciated, because they didn't push her to really talk or anything, they just told jokes and sat there quietly and waited for Brittany to engage on the painful part of the conversation.

It was a beautiful friendship, really.

But all of that is not what made her finally lose her temper. It was the conversation with her best friend that had turned into a painful matter that they hadn't been ready for; Brittany hadn't been ready for it, anyways. Because although she had know it was an inevitable subject that was meant to be brought up, she was still recovering from Karofsky _and _the break-up with Artie.

Santana had never been good with tact or timing; Brittany knew this.

_" -It does suck about you and wheels, though," stated Santana, her voice casual and lacking sympathy._

_They were in the restroom and applying make-up on their faces; especially the blonde, who still had a rather noticeable bruise on her cheek. Because even though Sue had let her take a break the first two days after the fight, she had firmly demanded that she come back on the third. Quinn had looked at her apologetically; apparently she had tried for longer but Sue was having none of it. But it was okay, because Brittany did not want to be treated like some charity case for everyone else to feel sorry for and empathize with. She had never liked that at all._

_"Yeah," murmured Brittany, trying to keep their conversation off dangerous territory._

_"Don't be sad about it Brit, he didn't deserve you anyway."_

_"Oh, and you do?"_

_Santana froze, and then a sneer overcame her features. "More than Steven Hawking does, Brittany."_

_"He wasn't ashamed of kissing me in public, or going out on dates with me, or telling me how pretty I am during sex -" _

_"Enough!" Santana's eyes were narrowed at Brittany now, and her cheeks were flushed in anger. Her chest was heaving in her Cheerio's uniform, and she began hastily stuffing her make-up in her bag when the blonde looked at her with pleading eyes. Brittany couldn't help it; now that they were there in the conversation, she just couldn't stop her true emotions from showing. _

_Brittany quickly leaned forward and grasped Santana's arm to stop her from leaving._

_Her darker-skinned counter-part refused to turn around and look at her._

_"Please," whispered Brittany. "J-just talk to me. We could work this out and -"_

_The Latina yanked her arm out of Brittany's grasp with a snarl on her face; it was uncharacteristically aimed at Brittany. The blonde couldn't help but shrink back with a tingle of fear running down her spine. She knew Santana would never hurt her, but she also knew that the girl tended to go onto a destructive path when she was particularly frustrated, angry, or just in-denial about something. Like now. But Santana seemed to realize that she was scaring her, because her eyes softened and her hand reached out to cup the blonde's cheek gently._

_She opened her mouth and then closed it. Brittany knew what she had been about to say, and she also knew that she now wasn't going to because of the flash of determination she saw._

_"I-I can't," whispered Santana._

_Brittany closed her eyes and finally slumped her shoulders in her final defeat. "I know."_

That had finally made her irritation reach up to its limits and push her anger forth.

She just couldn't help it. She knew in the back of her mind that that was the outcome that was going to await her when she had let down her walls; it was kind of their routine. It was just how they worked; not a push and a shove back, but a push and a tumbling off a cliff. Because it wasn't an equal ground for what they felt. It never had been and never would be.

But alas, her irritation finally had snapped on Friday. The end of the week.

_Brittany could only watch with her eyes as wide as saucers as Santana was physically pried off of Azimio. It had taken Mr. Schuester, Finn, Puck, and even Sam as they hauled her back. The Latina was kicking and shouting in Spanish that was aimed furiously at the boy, who was still against the lockers with his eyes wide in disbelief. _

_Azimio had only said one sentence. "The dumb bitch probably deserved the ass-kicking she got from my boy."_

_Brittany felt tears build in her eyes as she met the gaze of Santana's._

_The blonde thought she saw a thin sheen of tears build up in the other girl's eyes as she turned her head away from Brittany's probing - and loving - gaze._

Which was why she was now at home and just laying on her bed.

She was clutching her care-bear to her chest and just trying to forget the happenings of that entire week. She stretched her legs out under the covers and nestled more firmly against her pillow. She wished that she could forever bask in this peacefulness; forget about the pain from the outside - or more accurately, McKinley - that was currently happening. Maybe it had been a mistake going with Mike to confront Karofsky. Because she had broken up the stable relationship with her boyfriend, gotten hurt, and re-opened the jar of feelings for her best friend that she had tried to contain.

She was startled by her phone buzzing on the nightstand.

She just sighed in annoyance and went to pick it up.

She looked at the screen.

_Santana._

She released a deep breath and with tears building in her eyes -and pain building in her heart- she hit ignore.

_One missed call._

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**End. Maybe if I get enough feedback I will continue this and make this longer than a two-shot.**


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: I'm pretty sure my eyes popped out when I saw the reviews for this story and read them. So thank you!

Warnings: There will be a little sexual activity for this chapter. Not much, but for those people who say they weren't warned then they're lying.

And I've decided I will go ahead and add another chapter, because you all are great.

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The next month seemed to pass by in a total daze.

A painful daze that included outright avoidance, awkwardness, and jealousy.

But this was McKinley High School, so it would be downright weird if there wasn't something going on.

Brittany was currently chewing on her pencil and sighing in a forlorn fashion; the current lesson on the board was not capturing her interest at all. And it certainly didn't help that Santana was sitting next to her and blatantly flirting with some jock. Honestly, the complete subtlety of the situation was not lost on the blonde. It was doing its job, however, because she could feel her fingers tightening around her pencil. She ignored the sudden flare of discomfort as the boy leaned forward and ran his hands gently over Santana's thigh; he was tracing these oddly intricate patterns, but his destination was clear as his hand moved upwards.

She was about to awkwardly clear her throat to discourage them, but luckily Mr. Schue had walked back in.

She released a nearly inaudible breath as the two seperated - not without scowls, of course - as hastily as they could. She had never been more thankful for a teacher interrupting in her entire life. Because she was certainly not up for seeing her best friend getting her 'mack on' in the classroom. In front of her, anyways. Because she did not like the way her chest had tightened when Santana had smiled flirtaciously at the boy.

But this familiar feeling had been happening quite a lot this month.

And as the bell rang and the students began gathering their things off their desks, she suddenly remembered why this had all started. It all started because of her.

_"I'm just saying that we might as well," sighed Brittany, her expression frustrated._

_"But it still wouldn't be right, Brit" snapped Artie, his expression equally as frustrated as his blonde companion's._

_They were currently in some random room of Puck's house. The Titans had miraculously pulled off a win and now they were all in party mode. And everyone automatically knew that Puck would be throwing a party at his place afterwards; he always did, win or lose. The blonde just couldn't help but be amazed that his mother had not caught him as of yet. But then again, she was a nurse and took the graveyard shift._

_But the party had been in full swing for an hour now. _

_And the first thing she had noticed as she walked through the door - besides some of the hockey players and the beer pong - was the closeness between Puck and Santana. They were leaning against the wall and he had his arm above her head in a casual, yet flirtacious fashion; they were both smirking. Of course. So she ignored the boiling in her stomach and looked for a familiar face. She had immediately found a kindred spirit in Artie, who was currently by the wall and watching everyone with a sullen expression on his features._

_So she had picked up a random bottle from someone who just walked by and had walked towards him._

_And now they were currently in a random bedroom, arguing furiously._

_"I understand that you're mad about Santana," he gritted out, his jew clenched. "And I am to about Tina. But we can't just hook up to drown our sorrows everytime or else -"_

_"Or else what?" She couldn't help the angry shout that escaped her lips._

_Artie's jaw clenched and he glanced distastefully at the bottle of cheap vodka that was clenched tightly in her hands. She was directly in front of the boy, panting and flushed from the alcohol. And his hands were gripping his wheels tightly; his eyes still held a soft affection for the blonde despite the heated battle that was currently taking place._

_"Or else it will just be an endless circle, Brit; we will never get over them otherwise."_

_Brittany slumped and her eyes brimmed with tears. "Y-yeah, you're right. You're right."_

_She sniffled and went over and placed the bottle on the dresser by the bed; she walked back toward Artie with a new-found determination in her eyes. Artie couldn't help but feel a woosh of breath leave him as he saw her flushed face and tear-filled eyes; she was still as gorgeous as ever. Santana was a moron._

_"If you tell me that we'll be better, then I'll believe you," sniffled Brittany, gently sitting on his lap in a friendly manner._

_"We'll be better," ground out Artie, determinedly._

_He pulled her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder, hugging her in a comforting fashion. She sniffled and leaned her head on top of his; she leaned down and ruffled his hair and smiled softly when he scowled up at her. She couldn't help but smile, because it felt like there had been a release of stress that had suddenly washed upon her; she realized that this was what closure felt like. And she concluded that closure - despite all the pain that it sometines took to really get there - was definitely a good thing. Because she honestly had missed Artie as her friend._

_"I hope I don't turn into the woman who has a billion cats who creeps out the neighbors," muttered Brittany._

_Artie looked up at her incredulously, before bursting out laughing. "What the hell, Brittany?"_

_"Just trying to break the ice," smiled the blonde, realizing for the first time the alcohol in her system._

_They were both giggling and leaning heavily on each other now, their faces flushed and their chests heaving. Brittany was laughing so hard that she slid from Artie's lap and onto the floor, much to the amusement of the boy above her. She giggled and leaned her head against his leg, placing her hand on his thigh and giving him a mock-saucy look._

_They both stopped laughing when the door suddenly burst open._

_Brittany's smile instantly dropped when she noticed the flushed forms of Santana and Puck, who were kissing roughly; Santana's back was facing the two._

_Puck had his hands roughly on Santana's hips, almost looking as if they were indented there. And the Latina's hands were fisted roughly into the collar of the mohawked boy's shirt. They were breathing heavily and pressing their bodies together as a stunned Artie - and quite hurt Brittany - watched on with wide eyes and gaping mouths. And the blonde felt something coil in her body as she watched Santana push Puck roughly against the door of the room, ringing in a dull thud and grunt from the boy. It cause the boy to open his eyes in pain while Santana kept on attacking his mouth ferociously._

_His gaze fell on Brittany and Artie._

_He stopped kissing the dark-skinned girl and his body completely froze as his eyes widened. Santana caught on quickly._

_"Puckerman!" Her voice was a bark. "Could you man up and concentrate for one damn second?"_

_When Puck failed to answer the angry girl - he was still looking at them with wide eyes - then that's when Santana herself turned around. She had a look of annoyance on her face as she twirled around and faced the obvious distraction. Her entire body seemed to go rigid when she took in the forms of Artie and Brittany; it was also then when the blonde realized that their position looked slightly compromising._

_Santana's eyes showed nothing but pure disbelief as she gazed at them. But the disbelief hardened into something...fierce._

_Her eyes were crackling fire, but her voice was falsely sweet. "Well, isn't this cute? Clearly your standards must be dropping if you're willing to fuck a charity case, Brittany."_

_"Leave him alone, S," spat Brittany, uncharacteristically hostile. "He's sweet and there is nothing going on between us. We were just talking."_

_The brunette's eyes widened at the tone of voice that was aimed at her. Brittany couldn't really find it in herself to truly care; Santana had crossed a line with that statement and they both knew it. So she didn't falter on her relentless glare as her best friend just looked at her with a befuddled expression. It quickly morphed into something that resembled pain, and the blonde's breathing hitched when she could see the slump of Santana's shoulders. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and reassure her friend that nothing had been going on. Santana beat her to it._

_"Well," sneered Santana, her voice positively sour and her eyes positively emotionless, "I wouldn't want to interrupt this adorable little reunion, now would I?"_

_"Santana -"_

_The brunette had already twirled around and was now pushing past Puck and walking out the door._

_Brittany couldn't help but notice that her best friend's posture was too rigid to be confident; she thought she heard a snarl as Puck followed and asked if she was okay._

_She looked towards Artie who was looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. She just adverted her gaze to the floor; she didn't want him to see her tears and get worried. She swallowed the lump in her throat and gently pushed herself off of the ground and onto her feet. She glanced back at Artie and attempted a weak smile as she walked defeatedly toward the door and then left._

And that was just the beginning of the month.

But she just shook her head and disregarded what her Algebra teacher was currently saying.

She had been so lost in the memory that she hadn't even realized that she had walked to her next class. And she must have been on auto-pilot because she was sitting in her usual seat; she was sitting by Santana, who was currently scribbling furiously into her notebook with her pencil. She glanced away and pretended that she wasn't interested in what her best friend was writing. She knew it certainly wasn't notes, because the dark-skinned girl never religously took notes like that. That entire concept was quite laughable.

She just lowered her pencil and shook her head in frustration.

But she was suprised when she felt the nudge of someone's foot against her own; it was quite insistant.

She faced Santana, who was currently holding up a perfectly folded note towards her. She masked her suprise and glanced at the front subtly; their teacher was still droning on about a particular problem and was writing it on the board in expicit detail. He didn't seem to catch on that no one gave a crap.

She reached forward and grasped the note gently in her fingertips.

And that caused her fingertips to graze against Santana's; Brittany felt her chest constrict when she took in her best friend's stiffened posture and avoided gaze.

She opened the note gently to find Santana's neat hand-writing on the inside.

_Puck's busy tonight. Wanna come over?_

She glanced up to see Santana regarding her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Brittany felt anger soar through her at the familiar expression on the girl's face; she had been on the end of that look plenty of times. And she was quite infuriated that the girl could just forget things as if they never mattered. It also hurt that they were still playing this little game.

_No__! :/_

She made sure she underlined her refusal of Santana's offer in her customary yellow highlighter. And she made sure the girl got the hint when she put the mad face next to it. She gently folded up the note and placed it at the corner of her desk; she made sure that the teacher was still distracted first. She watched as Santana eagerly took it from her desk with no discretion and opened it up hastily. She watched as the smirk fell from Santana's face and she couldn't help but feel an inane amount of satisfaction. She was tired of playing this little game with her best friend, because it was in blatant disregard to all of her feelings.

She could see Santana scribbling furiously once more; she was glancing at her out of the corner of her eyes.

She sighed and turned when she felt the foot nudge hers once more. And without even glimpsing at the front, she leaned over to take it; she knew the teacher was still droning on and not watching the class. You could tell by the tone of his voice and the light snores coming from some random kid.

" - And then all you need to do is simplify using the distributive property -"

_Come on, B. We haven't done it in a while. I miss your lady-lovin'. xo_

Brittany had to retain her sigh of complete annoyance. She also had to reign in the sudden flare of heat that erupted in her lower belly; she was finally reminded at how long it had been. She hurriedly crossed her legs and tried to ignore the slight throbbing that had formed below her waist at the mere thought of giving in to Santana. She took a deep breath and summed up all of her courage.

_I'm not giving you lady-lovin' anymore. We're done, S._

She folded it up carefully and placed it on the edge of her desk. She could see Santana picking it up eagerly once more and quickly unfolding it. She watched as Santana's face hardened and then promptly glanced up at her with an angry expression. The blonde made sure to leave her face carefully blank; she didn't want her best friend to see her new satisfaction or confidence. She turned her head to hide her smirk.

She was suprised when she felt a soft hand cover her own.

She whipped around to face Santana with wide eyes, who was still frowning at her.

"Are you gonna tell me what the hell your problem is?" It was whispered furiously.

Brittany opened her mouth to whisper back at her darker-skinned counterpart, but she felt her throat close up when Santana seemed to unconsciously link their pinkies together. She released a heavy breath and ignored the pain in her heart at the familiar gesture. She turned in her seat and leaned forward to whisper back at the girl. She was swiftly interrupted by a very angry teacher.

"Miss Pierce, Miss Lopez...is there a problem here?"

"No, sir, " murmured Brittany, chastined.

"Good. Now perhaps you and Miss Lopez could pay attention from now on."

Brittany could hear Santana distinctly scoff at the teacher as he turned back around. She turned to look at her best friend who was looking at her with an almost...pained expression. Almost. The blonde just shook her head at the girl and turned in her seat, determined to at least avoid the girl for the rest of the hour. Or maybe even the rest of the school day. But she could only be so lucky; she was already dreading the end of class - for the first time ever - because she just knew her best friend would not let up so easy. And she was just so exhausted from everything at this point that she just wanted to go home and hug her stuffed duck and never leave.

Because she was tired of her best friend as of this point; she didn't know how much more resolve she had, and especially whenever Santana touched her like that.

Like she cared.

_Brittany had gotten out of her car with a happy grin on her face; nothing could bring her down today. Because last night New Directions had won - or tied you could say - for Sectionals and now they were moving on to Regionals with their spirits high. Last night everyone had come together for the first time in a long time and had performed their best. They had honestly put their souls into that performance._

_And she had found herself breathless at the way Santana had belted her solo with pure confidence; her technique had been flawless._

_And that wasn't the only thing that had happened that night._

_Santana had kissed her. After everyone had gone backstage and practically ransacked the room with their excitement, Santana had followed Brittany into the bathroom and had kissed her passionately. She had looked at her through hooded mocha eyes; her expression had conveyed pure, unadulterated need as she gripped Brittany's face in between her hands and kissed her hard. All she could remember were heated breaths and her back thudding against the door as Santana had worked her magic on her. She should have stopped her, but she hadn't._

_She couldn't bring herself to regret anything now, though. Because her spirits were high and the smallest part of her was clinging on the the hope that something would happen._

_It had been slightly foolish to assume that Santana would change overnight._

_Because she had just stumbled onto a sight that she certainly hadn't wanted to see._

_It had been the natural reaction to go investigate the groan she heard. Maybe deep down she knew what it probably was, but that still hadn't stopped her from wanting to really know. It was a common thing among anyone; you can't really stop yourself despite knowing subconsciously what it was. _

_And she had peered around the corner and had seen two familiar figures under the bleachers._

_She could feel her stomach bubble with that familiar burn; she thought faintly that it was a miracle that they hadn't been automatically caught._

_But her attempted lightness of the situation just came back to her even harder and she felt angry when she felt the thin sheen of tears prickle her eyes softly. She released a shaky breath when noticed the figure of Santana, who had one of her elbows jutting out in a quick motion; she biting Puck's neck softly. Puck was leaning his head back against the cool metal of the bleachers, biting his lip and grunting every few seconds. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Santana was jacking him off. _

_Brittany quickly turned her head around and left when she had noticed Santana lowering herself to her knees._

_Her fist were clenched tightly as she began walking away, and she felt something build up in her throat._

_"Oh, fuck," she heard distantly, followed by a groan. _

_She only vaguely realized that her body was completely shaking. And the thing had built up in her throat had released and she was startled when it came out as a low growl. She felt her chest constrict and it took her a minute to regain her bearings; she had realized that her upper body was heaving - in panic or rage she didn't know - and that there was now black dots dancing in front of her vision._

_Her active avoidance of her best friend started that day._

Brittany was startled when she hear the bell go off over her head. Had she really been lost in her flashbacks that long? She quickly stood up and gathered her belongings; she pointedly ignored Santana's curse and mutter of her name as she quickly walked out the door of the classroom. She kept her speed quick and her head down, because remembering why this month had been so bad just dropped her mood immediately.

"Hey, Brit!" His shout was slightly breathless.

She couldn't stop the soft grin that overcame her features. "Hey, Mike."

She slowed down her pace so that he could catch up. He was clutching his books to his chest and was grinning; he held out his arm for her to take, which she did gladly. She sighed and tightened her arm around his as he began chatting about some new video game. She couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly.

"You okay, baby-girl?" Mike had always been quite perceptive.

"Yeah," murmured Brittany, attempting a weak smile. "It's just Santana kept sending me notes in Algebra today. She wants me to come over tonight."

He seemed to grimace, tightening his arm around hers in the process. He opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly closed it; she knew he was just being respectful and didn't want his true opinion of her best friend to come between them. But that's why she liked Mike so much; he just knew when and when not to say things to somebody. It was certainly a difficult quality to find in anyone; she had grown used to not having any verbal boundaries when it came to having Santana Lopez as your best friend. And Mike had always been the quiet guy, so she was quite honored that she was one of the very few he spoke to so often.

"U-uh, you know my thoughts on that, Brit" stumbled Mike, obviously trying not to offend. "But you're a big girl and I know you can make your own choices."

"I'm not going to, Mike," smiled the blonde, tightening her arm in his. "I told her I'm done with all of that."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Good. Because you're better than that."

"I am," nodded Brittany. It felt so good to hear the words actually being said out loud from somebody else. It gave her strength that she didn't even know she truly had in her. She felt her heart swell suddenly, and she felt her head lift up high and her back straighten once more; she felt her confidence come back and her bad mood slowly decipate. Everything would eventually be okay.

"Hey," grinned Mike, suddenly lighting up. "Tina has to do something with her parents tonight. Would you wanna go see that new action flick?"

"Yeah," mumbled Brittany, slowly starting to smile. "That sounds just like what I need right now."

He smiled at her charmingly, and she smiled right back.

Things weren't going great right now, but hopefully everything would turn out okay. Because she had already hit rock bottom with her best friend, and she was pretty sure it could only get better from here. She was determined to get over her best friend, and she now had a goal to make that happen. It wouldn't be easy, she surmised, but she knew it would just take time.

She didn't realize how wrong she turned out to be.

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**There ya go. :P Feedback is appreciated. It also inspires more writing. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

*Looks Meek* Hello. I really can't even say anything right now other than: I'm so sorry! But sometimes life just gets in the way. :/

I will be continuing this, but I honestly can't promise you any quick updates right now. Maybe once next semester starts I can a little more regularly.

But thank you to all of the people who still follow this and have still continued to leave reviews; it is very much appreciated.

_Input on 3x06: Everybody's doing it so I have too as well. I've never liked Finn, and this goes back all the way to season one. And you can't use that 'well it's cause you support femslash pairings.' No. I have equal love for femslash and male/female pairings. I was actually a huge Fabrevens shipper. But I have never liked Finn. To me he's always been hypocritical and indecisive; childish and selfish among other things. He can cheat(cue kissing Rachel twice in season one while he was with Quinn) but can't be cheated on. Cue Rachel kissing Puck in season 2. Now Quinn getting pregnant I can completely understand him upset. Different story. And he also is all about teamwork when he's the 'leader' of New Directions, but when someone tries to be a leader as well(Sam in season 2 and now Blaine) he gets a little defensive and threatened. So no, I've never been big on his character. I love the actor, Cory, to death. Awesome guy. I just hate the character he portrays. Now I do love Santana. She's a bitch and she admits it. Admittedly though, she can't seem to take what's fired back at her. I've noticed this. But there's two different levels of hurting someone. A line to be crossed. She insults Finn constantly, which I have to admit is a little amusing. I don't like him, so sue me. But I can understand where his charatcer might be hurt by her words. BUT, there's a huge difference in insulting your physique and outting someone. I don't think he meant all of Ohio and everyone to find out television wise, but he certainly should have properly thought out the consequences before calling Santana out in the hallway where everyone could hear. That itself wasn't very nice. I think he deserved the slap that was coming. He needs a wake up call, seeing as he has seen Kurt at McKinley and him coming out of the closet and the consequences. But then again, he was mysteriously absent whenever it came to standing up for him._

_So all in all: Santana needs to be able to take it if she dishes it. But Finn did overstep some boundaries. He deserved the slap he got. Okay. That is all. If you don't agree then just put agree to disagree and don't leave several paragraphs of why I'm wrong. _

_Warnings: _A little Brittany/Quinn in this chapter. It will NOT turn into a pairing. Just gonna explore a little of the Unholy Trinity/Santana and Quinn rivarly dynamic. Just throwing that out there. And a little Santana/Sam, because we are going towards the _Sue Sylvester Superbowl Shuffle _and through _Blame It On The Alcohol_. But with my own twist, of course. And it was hard writing a bad-guy Santana in this chapter after 3.06, but I need it for the story.

Hope you like. Reviews appreciated and constructive criticisms welcome. I'm very rusty on my writing so forgive me.

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Chapter Four: One Step At A Time

_At first it was the hardest thing she had ever attempted to do._

Because although she enjoyed Mike, Sam, and Quinn - when she wasn't acting like her brooding, detached self - as friends, it just wasn't the same as her friendship with Santana. One was for one of the more obvious reasons; the other was because ever since Junior High they had been attached by the pinkie.

And that's why it was incredibly difficult for Brittany and her current cold-shoulder to her best friend; whether they had been depressed, scared, or even the least bit angry at each other, they always reached for each other at the start of the day as if it were second nature to them. Which the blonde surmised that it genuinely _was._ And walking through the doors of Mckinley only to have Santana just nod at her and continue on her way, well, it was absolutely heart-breaking. It caused Brittany to uncharacteristically frown and suddenly wonder why she felt as if something had gone completely off-balance; like a routinely ritual was suddenly broken in less then a second, making you feel as if you're blinking in shock and just wondering what happened to make you break that routine.

Except the fact that Brittany certainly did know.

She had rejected Santana yesterday in the classroom. And the brunette had yet to text, call, and now refused to lock their pinkies together. And now that the dancer thought about it, it kinda sorta pissed her off. Why did Santana always get the right to act normal and nonchalant when something actual _does _transpire between the two of them; she knew the dark-skinned girl would never confess to that. Why does Santana get to play games and call the shots on who she gets to fuck around with? Pardon the pun. Couldn't Brittany actually call the shots just this once? Apparently not, because Santana had broken that unspoken rule and now Brittany was outright avoiding her.

It almost made her physically ill that this entire situation had caused more drama than it was worth.

It almost made her feel as ill as seeing her placement dummy being shot halfway across the football field.

Oh! And it combusting into tiny pieces.

She ignored the crazed rants of Sue Sylvester and her megaphone, instead choosing to survey the beautiful skies of Ohio; slightly obscured, due to the still falling pieces of the dummy still tracking its way onto the well-kept grounds of the football field.

And she felt an inane amount of fear bubble up within her; kind of like when she got tummy aches and had to deal with the resulting Tums. It made her blue eyes dim in slight fear and her fingers between to twitch in the confines of her Cheerio's letterman. And Brittany wasn't stupid. She saw - along with everyone else - the completely maniacal grin on Sue's face, and she knew that the woman would stop at nothing to have her tallest Cheerio blasted out of the very unsafe confetti cannon. She would probably even feed some stupid story that had to do with baby cannons and a contract.

But her fear must have presented itself quite obviously across her face, because she was a little startled when a soft and familiar hand wrapped itself around her own. She didn't need to turn her head to the side, because she knew exactly who it was; she also felt another familiar presence on her other side; her captain.

Brittany shook her head, only vaguely noticing the other cheerleaders walking off the field. "I'm so dead."

She could detect her own quiver, and suprisingly it was immediately Quinn that provided the immediate reassurance. A hand - much lighter than Santana's own - gently placed itself on her shoulder comfortingly, and she leaned into it slightly as it began to squeeze. She was slightly suprised when she felt Santana's hand pulling away from her grasp, and she turned to look at the unreadable face of her best friend.

"It's not a big deal, Britt. She'll fix it up and we will win Nationals."

She could even feel Quinn's incredulousness from the tighter grip on her shoulders, and she felt slightly better knowing that at least the shorter blonde certainly thought it was a big deal. And Brittany felt more than a little hurt by the offhand comment that was supposed to be reassuring. And she felt the momentary warmth that had gripped her when Santana approached had all but faded with that one single - unintentional - jab. And the slight hurt and building resentment only blossomed even more so when her darker-skinned counterpart just examined her nails in a nonchalant manner.

She bit down on her lip hard and she leaned more toward Quinn's body; the shorter blonde in question was subtly glaring at Santana and giving Brittany a soft, affectionate look. The perfectly manicured nails dug into her shoulder almost subconsciously, and by now Quinn was glaring at the cannon.

"I'll talk to Mr. Schuester about this. There's no way him and Figgins will let this happen."

Oddly enough, Brittany no longer cared about potentially being blasted into a million splinters, because the way Santana suddenly just shrugged noncommittedly and turned around and walked off, she reckoned that it would actually feel a little bit better than _this._

/

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/

_And then it was just hard._

Because when said one that you have feelings for totally disregards you, than it gives you enough leverage and momentum to push yourself out of their clutches.

A part of Brittany only wished that Mr. Schue hadn't stopped the confetti cannons a few weeks back, because it would have been easier to just break her that way. She got it, she really really did. Santana liked to play games with anyone and everyone; it was the guilty attractive trait that drew the blonde in like a moth to a flame. But when it came to the blonde herself, she most certainly didn't like it one bit. It absolutely killed her to know that Santana had unconsciously turned this all into one of her games. Because even though her best friend was indecisive, not even she could just chalk down into simpy that.

The girl couldn't just admit it or say, _'relationship or no relationship?'_

And over the pass few weeks it had gotten a little out of control, one might say. On one hand it helped Brittany realize that it just might be a never-ending saga that involved her being a lost puppy dog and Santana being a dictator, and that ever so slightly helped her on her way to getting over Santana and her games. But on the other hand, it was just so painful and harsh and confusing; Brittany felt like she had those flu pains where she couldn't move and it made her body ache all over, but only this time it included her heart as well.

It just wasn't fair, because she honestyl felt as if she didn't know her best friend anymore; it hurt her more when she caught the faintest glimpses of the girl who once pushed Puck to the ground in the sixth grade for making fun of Brittany's duck dress. She used to love that girl. She _still _did, but it was growing harder to with every single second. Because she oddly used to love Santana's mood swings and continuous touches, and now she just wanted all of that to stop and never come back out again.

Thank God for Mike Chang and dancing, or else she would have probably broken down and started crying.

But she didn't. She followed his effortless twirls and almost sensual hip thrusts and continued to lose herself on the stage floor, the bright lights casting their constantly moving glares onto the magenta curtains behind them. Brittany didn't necessarily know why they were doing this, but she had never really needed much reason to dance. And although Mike was exactly the same in that aspect, she couldn't help but feel as if a part of him was doing this for her benefit. Mike always had that sweet, subtle way to cheer her up.

She genuinely appreciated it.

She panted as she finally came to a stop, and she could see Mike bending over and stretching his right leg in her peripheral vision.

"So...how pissed are you?"

She could feel herself stiffening unintentionally. She would like to say that she was suprised by Mike's blunt question, but that would be an outright lie. The receiver and dancer may not talk all that much, but he was certainly to the point and unapologetic when he did tend to speak. It was actually quite nice. He didn't sugarcoat shit.

"I'm pretty mad, Mike," she frowned.

She could feel his eyes on her as she trapsed slowly towards the edge of the stage and glumly sat upon it, her long legs dangling off. She knew she would end up having this conversation with someone, and who better than her best friend? Well...best friend _without _benefits. Because Mike had been friends with Santana almost as long as she had, and while he had specifically warned her off any romantic feelings for the girl, he had also been one of the very few to get Santana to talk to him. They weren't as close as the two of them were, because her and Mike actually _talked_ to one another, but him and Santana had this weird silent connection thing.

It was almost like Quinn and Rachel's...except, well, less unicorn.

She could hear his heavy breaths as he plompt right beside her on the edge, silently reaching for his backpack and pulling out a bottle of water, which she happily accepted.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

She shrugged, and tried to ease her inner guilt. "I may have yelled and he just stayed quiet."

Mike just surveyed her without judgement and nodded his head.

"You two need to eventually work it out. I'm not supporting what happened at all; I don't think it was right in terms of friendship. But the three of us are Amigos, Britt-Britt."

Brittany sighed forlornly and took a sip of water, just looking over all of the empty seats; she wondered what it would be like if an audience just came and watched them dance. No singing, no pain, and no backstabbing friends fucking up any of the non-existent routines. She could actually imagine herself smiling and forgetting everything that was happening; just dancing with Mike and gaining applause. She wouldn't have to be able to sing beautifully like Rachel, or be a delicate alto with the wit and smarts like Quinn, or be the smoky rasps of Santana with the saucy stage presence. She could just be Brittany; she could just dance with Mike and be at the center of the stage for once.

She stood up abruptly. "I guess I'll talk to him tonight."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "At Berry's Trainwreck Extravaganza?"

Brittany nodded and pursed her lips. "If he can detach his mouth from Santana's long enough to hold a conversation."

Mike made a noise of discontentment in the back of his throat, but he made no move to defend Sam. He just clambored to his feet and joined Brittany once more in stretching. And she knew that she probably wouldn't talk to Sam tonight, but she wanted to placate a slightly distraught Mike. She knew he was only trying to be a friend and make them call a truce; he just didn't understand it to some point, because he had Tina and she was sure that he would understand if it were him in her position.

Santana and her weren't official; everyone and their blind mothers knew this. But still, to have a friend that you relied on and who actually watched your struggle at getting over your closest friend only to start dating the person you were trying to get over was a big party foul in her book. She's made out with half of the school, yes, but she had never told anyone that she had always made sure that they were single. Brittany wasn't Santana. It made her internally cringe when she thought that, because she had never said one cruel thing about Santana, even to herself. But maybe it was time to accept that the latina had flaws; big ones, at that.

Maybe it was just time to admit that something beyond friendship just wouldn't work between the two, no matter how much she wanted it to. But still, she wasn't quite ready to face that or have a conversation with Santana just yet. As much pain as it caused her, maybe it would be a good thing if Sam stayed attached to the fiery girl all night.

Because then Brittany could just breath. Oh! And drink her ass off.

Which is exactly what she ended up doing.

She was the first to reach all of the wine coolers, besides Puck, of course. And while a few seem to be coasting and relaxing their way into their drunkiness, Brittany was already way ahead of them. She was already wasted and the party had only started an hour ago.

It had probably been the - very uncomfortable - body shots that Santana had her do. Brittany drunkenly scowled when she realized that that was the only interaction that the two had had all night long. Dammit. But she could feel her chest constrict and her insides burn - which had absolutely nothing in relation to the alcohol - when she noticed Sam and Santana making out on the couch. It made her eyes involuntarily search out for Mike; he seemed to be enjoying a bottle of tequila with Tina and Artie.

She could feel the loneliness start to settle in the pit of her stomach and all she wanted to do was talk to someone.

Rachel seemed to be almost as drunk as Brittany, swaying in her hideous green dress; she thought she heard Santana call it an abomination earlier that night. But the blonde didn't know if Santana was talking about the dress or Rachel herself. She found herself rolling her eyes when the small girl draped herself over an uncomfortable looking Finn, who was holding a red cup in his hand and taking slow and cautious sips. Kurt was chatting eagerly with a seemingly zoned out Blaine, who actually seemed to be more drunk than Brittany.

At least she wasn't the only heavy drinker at this one party; people would ask questions that she didn't exactly want to answer.

And as she finally made her way over to a bored Quinn she could hear Santana begin to sob in the background; great, that meant she was drunk. She really didn't want to deal with a drunk Santana tonight, and was actually feeling quite sorry for Sam at this point in time. But when she surveyed Quinn's sad hazel eyes and the lonely aura that surrounded the girl, she felt remorse travel up through her. God, Quinn lost her boyfriend to Santana and had to deal with Finn following her around. Admittedly, Quinn shouldn't have cheated on him, but still.

There was a reason that Quinn did things the way she did; she never went through with something without reason. She would never attempt or begin to understand the shorter blonde, but she was still her friend. Her and Santana were the only Cheerios who had ever treated her like she was an equal; they never called her stupid or gave her a single ounce of that fake sugary sweetness.

So all in all, she respected her and valued her friendship with Quinn; it was distant at times, but maybe Brittany appreciated the wall that the former captain never tried to broach.

In turn, Brittany never tried to cross lines with her, either.

But she could feel happiness swell up when Quinn shot her a small - albeit - genuine smile; she quite ungracefully sat herself close to the smaller blonde, accidently spilling a bit of rum out of her cup and wincing when it hit a part of the couch. She heard Quinn sigh softly and start dabbing at the spot gently with a napkin in her hand; she didn't seem to mind, because she continued to smile at Brittany.

The dancer thought she muttered a, 'Hey, Q.'

She felt herself leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder for some much needed comfort; maybe the former captain needed comfort herself, even if it was hidden behind an icy mask. She felt a bit of hurt blossom in her chest when Quinn stiffened slightly, and it was then that she remembered Quinn's slight intimacy issue. The shorter blonde had always been tense when Santana and Brittany went to hug her; it was a complexity that not even Brittany's imperceptive self could ever read into. Quinn was like a rubix cube and Brittany had yet to find the right combination of matching colors.

She felt nimble fingers grasp her shoulder awkwardly and squeeze; she was incredibly astounded when she felt a head rest gently on top of hers and settle there _almost _comfortably. It was actually nice. But at the same time, it made Brittany's chest ache with the realization that it was an almost obligated show of friendship to bound the two and reaffirm reassurance. If the two of them weren't so lonely and miserable and heartbroken than she could bet Lord Tubbington's smokes that her and Quinn wouldn't be hugging it out now. Plus, Quinn was an angry drunk and she really must be feeling bad if she was allowing Brittany to cuddle against her. It had only been thirty minutes ago that the shorter blonde was chucking her red cup at Puck and raging about body issues and inward scars; outward too, if the cursing about stretchmarks was anything to go by.

She thought she heard a sniffle on the top of her head, and she felt her brow unconsciously furrow as her long arm went to wrap around Quinn's waist awkwardly.

"I-It's okay, Quinnie," she murmured, trying to soothe the temperamental blonde.

It was rather humorous. As much as Quinn and Santana had their differences - which was a massive understatement - and constant bickering battles, personality wise they were alike in many ways. They both had an intimadating presence, and they were the only two in McKinley that could strut down the hallways and make everyone shrink back in fear. Brittany only received that by association. But Quinn and Santana, they were both complicated and grade A Alpha entities that could swarm over the chessboard and wittingly knock out every player in the game until they took each other down; it was also whoever they happened to be currently battling with, as well.

"Santana's such a bitch," muttered Quinn, suprisingly nestling further into Brittany.

Brittany giggled and pulled her closer, removing her head from Quinn's shoulder and turning to face her. Her smile dropped slightly when she noticed the blonde's hazels focused to where Santana and Sam still resided, pecking each other on the lips; Sam would continously do it even more so and his face would stretch in panic when Santana's face contorted in the effort not to cry. Brittany would honestly laugh if the burning sensation in her stomach and the sudden urge to punch something didn't overwhelm her entire being.

Quinn's lips were pursed and her upper lip trembled almost imperceptively.

Brittany was at a loss for words, and she honestly didn't know how to comfort someone like Quinn. Mike and Santana were second nature, but Quinn had always been that distant third and it almost made Brittany nervous whenever she was alone with the blonde and didn't quite know what to do.

So she felt somewhat relieved with Rachel's cry of, "_SPIN THE BOTTLE!"_

And Brittany would love to blame the alcohol in this situation.

Because sitting in a circle with a bottle in the middle wasn't unfamiliar to Brittany; neither was kissing half of the damn circle. But oh well, this was a party and they were drunk. She wouldn't remember this in the morning; if she somehow did, than she _wouldn't _remember this in the morning. That's how she rolled, to avoid the awkwardness at any given cost, even fake memory loss.

But she wasn't quite counting on what happened next; she couldn't forget this if she tried.

The bottle had spun so fast that it almost launched off the checkerboard; it made a drunken Blaine giggle hysterically and a now angry Santana to snap, "Watch it!"

Brittany was almost dizzy watching the bottle continuously spin; she honestly hadn't meant to grab ahold of it with such eagerness. That's why she blamed it on her drunken state. And as it finally began to slow and relieved groans were heard throughout the room, the blonde unwillingly felt her breath hitch when it almost stopped on a strangely intense Santana; the dark-skinned girl was clenching her hands together and her dark almond eyes were flickering from the bottle onto Brittany. And the dancer wasn't stupid. She knew Santana was just waiting for an opportunity to kiss her again, and it made her feel quite contrite when she realized that she wouldn't mind the bottle landing on Santana. But it made Brittany inwardly frown and beg for it not to; she was attempting to get over her best friend and kissing her would certainly not help her mission at all.

She must put selfishness aside and not fall back into Santana's clutches; she had been there enough and had choked to death in her efforts to turn the girl into something she wasn't: girlfriend material. She refused to let that line be crossed anymore, for her own sanity above everything else.

But she felt the air shoot out of her body when the bottle kept weakly spinning and landed two spots away.

_'Oh, shit.'_

She chanced a look at Santana, and she wished she wouldn't have.

Her best friend looked startlingly furious; her eyes were blazing and her full pink lips were downset in a mixture of distaste and complete disapproval. Behind the anger and all the fury and the apprehension in Brittany's chest, she could see the insecurity in Santana's eyes spring up when she looked between Brittany and the person that the bottle had landed upon. Santana was shaking her head and looked ready to be sick, and Brittany wondered if this what she looked like when she noticed Santana and Puck; now Santana and Sam.

It was a look of disgust, but it was underneath all of that that made Brittany feel a bizarre adrenaline hit and a brazen feeling of selfishness and revenge.

It was unmatched jealousy.

...and Brittany loved it.

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Muhuahuahuahua! I already have part of another chapter written for this. And _I know who it is! (Sing-song voice)_

_Don't hate me! _


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